


red snow

by rrosebudd



Series: Lorie and Dell - NSFW [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Abuse, Ambush, Bandits & Outlaws, F/M, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Violence, fey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rrosebudd/pseuds/rrosebudd
Summary: Lorie and Dell are about to set out for the day when they are intercepted by a strange man and his crew. Lorie sees no danger and happily makes conversation, while her partner is much more apprehensive. As they head out into the blizzard to the road between cliffs, it turns out he had a reason to be suspicious. The two fight for their lives, lest the two fey be captured and abused.
Relationships: Original D&D Character(s)/Original D&D Character(s), Satyr/Centaur
Series: Lorie and Dell - NSFW [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922641





	red snow

“Alright, everyone clear on their assignments?” 

The goblin at the center of the group seemed to have the best idea of what was happening, as opposed to the others, who may or may not have been listening. Skits sighed. 

“Sorry, maybe one more time,” Lorie Elmay glanced around to the rest of the party, before giving Skits an apologetic smile. 

The goblin girl rolled her eyes. “One more time.” She took a deep breath, and began pointing to each member.

“Aerion, you and I are gonna head up north and scope out the center of the storm, see what we’re dealing with, magic-wise.” 

The aasimar nodded in affirmation with a confident smile. “Maybe cast some illusions while we’re there, scare some soldiers, who knows.”

“Right,” Skits gave a thumbs-up, then gestured sharply to the Goliath barbarian standing across from her. “Beaf. Get on the inside, get information, get out.”

“Easy,” Beaf confirmed, and his bicep twitched. “They won’t suspect a thing.”

“Yeah, okay,” Skits eyed him, perhaps not too trusting of his confidence, as the eight-foot tall man had a tendency for punching first and talking later. 

Luckily, that’s where Lorie came in. The satyr woman awaited her turn with an attentive smile. “And us two.”

“And you two,” the tiny leader looked to her at last, glancing between her and the large centaur that stood by her side. “Head to the east side of camp and start spreading the blasphemous word, or however you wanna scare these guys. Just get them to desert somehow.” Skits pointed to Lorie. “Miss Elmay, I’m relying on that silver tongue bullshit, so don’t let me down.” 

Lorie chuckled and shook her head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She snuck a glimpse over her shoulder and up at Dell, the man by her side, who looked tentative. The large centaur cleared his throat.

“Are we sure it’s such a good idea to send me to do… y’know, talkin’ things?” His Southern drawl was curious, uncertain.

Aerion nodded as well, bringing their hand up. “Yeah, I was gonna say. Why pair the two most and least charismatic people together?”

“Dell is plenty friendly,” Lorie corrected with a frown, flashing a scolding look in the aasimar’s direction, before giving a reassuring one to Dell. “Plus, we can balance each other out. No biggie.”

She beamed at him, and he looked like he wanted to refute that, but he offered a humored chuckle instead, and a small eye roll. “Alright.”

Skits nodded again, seemingly content with the plan that had been laid out. “Three-two-one break. See you all back here tonight.” She snapped her fingers in her teammates’ direction, before gesturing Aerion to follow her out the door. The two were followed by Beaf. Dell was about to follow as well, but stopped as Lorie didn’t, as she was rifling through her satchel one last time. 

“Got everything?” The centaur questioned, hesitating. 

Lorie tilted her head with her lips pursed. “Coulda sworn I put my shawl in here. Gimme one sec. Sorry, darlin’,” she flashed him an apologetic smile and headed back over to the bar. 

In the doorway, Aerion paused and turned around. “All good?”

He nodded, and waved them off. “Yeah, go ahead. We’ll meet ya back here later on.” 

The aasimar gave a thumbs-up, and jogged back out the door out into the snow of the artificially-made blizzard to join their partner. 

Lorie approached the bartender with a polite smile. “‘Scuse me, have you seen a—?”

The man turned to her, and reached under the bar for something, before holding up a green scrap of fabric in his hand. “This yours, ma’am?”

“Yes! That’s it,” she grinned gratefully, and took the cape from him. “Thank ya kindly.” She dug out a gold coin and hurriedly placed it on the counter, nodding to him again. 

She spun on her heel to look back at her companion with a smile. “Sorry, Dell. I’m all set if you ar—”

“Excuse me, miss.”

Another interruption came in the form of a stranger’s hand on her shoulder. 

Lorie stopped, her partner pausing as well, as she turned to the unfamiliar voice to her right. Her polite demeanor strong as it was, she had a tight-lipped smile ready, through which she offered a “hm?”

The voice belonged to a human man. He was sat at the bar, one hand on his large glass and the other on her shoulder, dropping it as she turned. There was a group of men both behind and around him, several at the bar with him, and others at the table nearby. While they were speaking amongst themselves, this man’s eyes were on her. 

He looked kind enough. Rough, weathered definitely, with salt-and-pepper hair and a full beard. Brown eyes, forehead creases and frown lines that made her think he was her age, but probably older. 

“My apologies for any interruption, but I was hoping to ask you something,” he nodded to her, leaning back in his stool.

Lorie blinked, and glanced to Dell as though to gauge his reaction or maybe his approval. His brow was creased, and he was eyeing the other men around the conversationalist. The other men stole a glimpse his way when they could. He looked back to Lorie, and shook his head. 

She frowned, as that wasn’t very polite, and it seemed he had a lot to learn about talking to strangers. She ignored him, and turned to the man once more. “Sure thing, shoot.” 

He cracked a smile, and tipped his head to her. “Are you by any chance — you and your friend here—” he gestured to Dell, who straightened himself, perhaps to look bigger, though he was already the largest man in the room by far. “Are you two from the feywild?” 

Lorie could feel Dell look at her again, as he stepped behind her, likely to keep the conversation shorter than it needed to be. The question wasn’t insensitive — not to her, at least. To Dell, it must have been a different case. 

She cleared her throat. “I… yes, we are, actually.” She heard one of Dell’s hooves scrape the floor impatiently. “How come ya ask?” 

“Aw, just curious,” the man shrugged, pausing, before adding, “my wife’s family is of fey blood, so I like to keep ties where I can.” His voice was deep, but sounded earnest. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s who, but you two stick out like a sore thumb.” He grinned. “No offense meant.”

Dell ground his teeth. “Sure.” 

“Of course,” Lorie chuckled, ignoring her partner. They would have to work on people skills later. “Does her family still live there?” She inquired, merely making niceties. 

“Mhm. Gorgeous place, from what I hear. Never been myself.” He smiled wistfully, perhaps drunk. 

“It is, really,” Lorie agreed. 

“It seems to have rubbed off on you quite a bit, ma’am,” he gestured over the satyr woman with his free hand. “You’re a very lovely—”

“You know,” Dell interrupted with a gruff tone, “we’re in a bit of a hurry. I think we should get going.”

“What brings you to the material plane?” The man all but ignored Dell entirely, his attention focused on Lorie. 

The satyr shot a look to Dell: half-concerned, half-apologetic. His eyes were narrowed. But she answered the man good-naturedly, nonetheless. “We… wanted to see the world, I suppose.” 

Not entirely a lie. That was part of her reason, anyway, but she wasn’t about to tell the story of her broken engagement, and certainly not get into the details of Dell’s accident. The answer seemed to satisfy the stranger, and he nodded.

“Suppose that’s reason enough.” He smiled. 

There was a lull, and Lorie’s smile began to ache just a tad. 

“Well,” the man slapped his thigh. “I don’t want to keep you two, I’m sure you’ve got a date or something, and my men and I ought to get back to our drinks.”

“We’re not—” Dell began, but the man had an affinity for controlling the conversation. 

“I didn’t catch your name, though.” He stuck out a hand. “Wildor.”

The satyr took it cautiously, as this hand was much larger than hers, and she shook it. “Lorie. And this here’s Dell.” She jerked her head in the centaur’s direction, whose gaze was ahead of him.

She followed it. Her eyes caught those of one of the men that hung around this side of the bar, and it was then she realized their attention had turned from one another to both her and her partner. They seemed to talk amongst themselves, stealing looks in their direction. Definitely Dell’s direction. 

She slowly dropped her hand from Wildor’s grasp, and shook her head, switching back into her charismatic mode. “It was nice meeting you, Wildor. You give your wife my best,” she gave him a genuine smile. 

“Will do, Lorie,” he tilted his glass in her direction. 

She quickly pulled her shawl over her shoulders and passed Dell on their way out the door. He was quiet, maybe brooding. He let her lead the way out of the bar, and the eyes of the men were on their backs the whole time. 

Only when the door shut behind the two of them did Lorie breathe a sigh of relief. She hugged her cloak around her shoulders. “I’m sorry about the holdup,” she admitted, voice low. 

“You shouldn’t have talked to him,” Dell grumbled, walking up next to her as they began their path through town and over to the east. 

She frowned. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. He was a little forward, sure, but he just wanted to know—”

“Those men were bandits, Miss Elmay.” 

She huffed. “That seems stereotypical.”

“I’m serious,” Dell almost snapped at her, and she shot a look in his direction with her brow lowered. “The way they dressed, the drinks, the looks they kept givin’ you an’ I like they were gonna attack any second. I know their kind.” 

The satyr ground her teeth in her mouth. “Do you, now.”

“Don’t want you askin’ why.” 

“Fine.” 

Lorie was quiet, her arms tight around her middle as they headed away from the inn and down the road, the trek ahead of them to the army camp. The crossness of her expression must have been radiating from her along with her body heat, as she heard Dell sigh from behind, and above her, given the height. 

“I hate to pull rank here, Miss Elmay,” he eased into his words, less hostile, “‘specially since I still see you as my teacher, but I have been here longer. On the material plane, that is.” 

She nodded, glancing back at him. “I know.” 

“I’ve got a better eye for what’s safe and what ain’t.” Both of their paces slowed as they distanced themselves from civilization and came along an empty path, snow drifting to the ground silently. 

She took a deep breath. “I trust that. But sometimes a conversation is just that. He only wanted to talk, I’m sure of it.” 

The man dipped his head, adjusting his jacket. “Mm,” he confirmed. “I’m jus’ sayin’.”

She went to explain further, but decided against it, instead looking back ahead of her with a content exhale. “I appreciate the concern,” she finished. 

“Yeah,” Dell cleared his throat. “Course.”

Lorie paused again, rounding a corner that brought them along a set of cliffs, deeper into the mountains. She stopped walking for a moment, chuckling softly, as she turned to her partner. 

“You still see me as your teacher?” She asked, her defensiveness gone in place of soft amusement. 

“Wuh—? Oh, I—” Dell stopped too, and stuttered. “Sorry, I shouldn’t a—”

Lorie shook her head, giggling. “No, it’s fine.” 

“I hope that’s not weird, or nothin’.” There was some embarrassment still in his irisless yellow eyes as he averted his gaze.

“Not at all,” she chuckled. “I’d say I still see you as my student, but it’s only been the year for me, not twenty-five.” 

“Yeh, I know.” He gave a weak, low rumble of a laugh. “I’m still… what, sixteen to you?”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Well, no, I try not to think of it that way.” She sighed. “I’m… still adjusting.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “S’weird.”

Lorie gave a small vocable to agree, and realized the two had stopped walking, merely standing in each other’s presence. 

She took a breath, looking his very tall form over. Every time felt like the first, given the unfamiliarity. “I do appreciate you lookin’ out for me, though,” she smiled, and it was genuine. 

Dell looked to her, and nodded. “Course, always.” 

“I can handle myself, and all that,” she added, a hand up. “But it’s nice.” 

He snorted. “Sure.” 

“I can!” She pointed at him, laughing a bit herself. “Even if those guys back there tried somethin’, I coulda—”

Though she was sure he was about to chuckle again, Lorie saw his face falter. 

“Shh,” he said suddenly. 

“Honestly,” Lorie giggled, if with tentativeness. “My magic is really somethin’, you haven’t seen it yet, but I—”

“No, I’m serious,” he barked, and she stopped. 

She furrowed her brow, offense and maybe a little bit of fear creeping over her. “What is it?”

Dell was silent, his light demeanor gone and replaced with the steely, hardened one that made him a stranger to her. 

His large torso straightened, and his gaze rose up above them, along the short cliffs that surrounded them. He didn’t speak as the snow fell and the wind blew, his eyes narrowing. 

Lorie followed his gaze, holding her cloak closer to herself as she tried to see what he did. She held her breath. 

At last, he shook his head, his muscles relaxing ever so slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he looked away. “I thought I heard—”

His sentence was punctuated not with words, but with a tiny  _ ffwp _ , and a gasp from Lorie, as an arrow shot through the air and embedded itself in the centaur’s shoulder. 

He let out a shout through his teeth, a hand going to the wound to clutch at the weapon sticking out of his skin, and stumbled backward. 

Lorie took a step back as well, her eyes darting from the cliffs to her companion and back. Dell grabbed hold of the arrow. 

“Dell, wait—!” Lorie warned, but he yanked it out of his arm, blood spurting from the puncture wound and beginning to spill down his bicep. 

“We have to go,” he instructed, his voice a deep rumble. “Now.” 

She nodded, and jumped with another frightened gasp as another arrow rained down, just behind her feet, and into the snow. 

“Come on,” Dell snapped, and grabbed hold of Lorie’s hand before she could respond. 

Her breath got stuck in her throat as she was suddenly lifted off her feet and swung by Dell’s strength up and over his back. She landed squarely on his horse’s back, right where the saddle would be, if he were to ever let anyone ride, which he never did. 

“Hang on,” he ordered, and Lorie was quick to wrap shaking arms around his middle, her eyes searching around to find the source of the attack. 

Her sharp caprine ears pricked up at the sound of whooping and hollering that echoed from the top of the sloping cliffs, and she whipped her gaze in that direction. 

She began to see people. Several of them, armed, climbing down from the rocks and advancing in on the two. 

“Dell,” she breathed, reaching for the lyre on her hip. 

“I said hang on.” His voice was a growl, as he drug one front hoof in the snow once, twice, as though winding up, before he bolted ahead.

They were waiting in the path. They weren’t there, and then they were, and Dell wasn’t able to go very far. Three up ahead, specifically, and several more closing in on the sides; Lorie would wager eight or nine. She could only hope Dell could leap, or weave, or something that would evade their attack. 

But his counter came in the form of rope, as just before he was about to trample through the bandits up ahead, a lasso was thrown with pinpoint aim. 

The loop sunk over Dell’s head and snapped shut around his neck. He gave a shout and reared back on his hind legs, yanked back by the makeshift leash and brought to his full equestrian height. 

As her seat became practically vertical, Lorie was all but thrown off of Dell’s back and onto the ground. She cried out, and fell several feet, her back smacking against the snow and knocking the wind momentarily from her lungs. 

From the ground, she watched Dell struggle and snatch at the rope tied around his throat. He was strong, thank the gods, stronger than the material, and as soon as he was able to grasp it properly, he ripped it apart. 

Though her diaphragm fought to work, Lorie breathed a tiny sigh of relief as Dell inhaled and threw the rope to his side, before rounding on the nearing assailants with fists at the ready, already starting to swing. 

He wound up to punch, and another lasso landed, ensnaring the wrist behind his head and tugging him back. He pulled at it with a frustrated cry through a locked jaw. One of the men cackled.

The second she could breathe normally again, Lorie was scrambling to her feet. The snow made her slip several times, but she soon managed to pull herself upright, and she ran. Her steps were stumbling, frantic, as she bolted forward. 

She also wasn’t permitted more than a couple steps, as she quickly bumped into a figure, and was halted, a man jostling her back, while two pairs of hands took hold of her arms and shoulders. 

“Whoa, hey,” came the voice ahead of her, a sardonic chuckle seeping through the words.

Taking in heaving breaths, she looked up to meet the brown eyes she’d been introduced to minutes before, though the kindness in them was gone. She struggled against the hold on her, eyes wide and brow low. 

“Sorry, hon,” Wildor sighed, though the sincerity was lacking in his voice. “No hard feelings.” 

Her shoulders fell, unsure if she should be more scared than she was disappointed. “You don’t have a wife, do you.”

“No, darling, I do not,” the bandit captain chuckled, and over her shoulder, Lorie could hear Dell shouting obscenities, as well as the sound of impacts on skin. She could only hope he was winning. 

“But I’d be less worried about that and more worried about your boyfriend there,” he snorted, and gestured to the men on either side of her. Her arms were dropped, and she took the opportunity to turn around. Her hand gripped her lyre with white knuckles. 

Dell wasn’t winning. Rope held each of his wrists, pulling his arms apart while he flexed against the bonds, and another lasso was wrapped around his center, cutting into his biceps and pressing his arms to his torso. 

He kicked a man behind him, who went down, but another took the opening to shoot an arrow into his flank. His cries of pain and anger became more animalistic, turning into bellowing whinnies and roars. He bucked back and forth, crushing one of the bandits under his hind hooves. Lorie heard a crack. 

Knowing she’d be detained any second, she raced forward, snatching her lyre in her grip and plucking a panicked chord. She shot a hand out and cast Hold Person on the archer in front of the centaur. 

The archer froze in place, and Dell kicked out a steely hoof to catch him in the side of the skull. Another splitting sound, and he crumpled.The snow beneath the battle began to blossom with spots of red. The sight made her mouth taste sour, especially that of her student creating carnage beneath his feet. 

She raised a shaky hand once more to cast something else, but felt a hand return to her shoulder and yank her back, only seconds after she’d been let go. 

“That’s enough of that, now,” came Wildor’s patronizing voice, as him and another bandit seized her arms and hauled her away from Dell. 

She inhaled on a strangled breath, kicking out her hooves, though the strength of her captors ensured that they barely touched the ground. She ripped one arm free, and cast another paralysis spell, stopping one of the bandits by Dell’s side. 

“Dell! To your left! Just—!” She called out to him, in hopes of granting some inspiration, but her arm was yanked back again, and the rest of her sentence was muffled by a makeshift gag, as a rag was violently wrapped around her head, cutting into her mouth and tied at the base of her neck. 

She cried out into the fabric, as she was roughly turned around to face the bandit captain, whose demeanor was infuriatingly nonchalant. He took both her wrists in front of her, with the help of another man to keep her still as she pushed at them, and swiftly bound them with more rope, as they had a seemingly endless supply. 

Lorie wasn’t strong, and it was moments like these she regretted that, but utilizing what little strength she had, she shouldered into the man at her side, catching him in the chin with the top of her head, and she tugged herself away from the two. 

She stumbled back and turned around, chest heaving as she breathed into the dirty gag, catching another glimpse of her companion. Her help wasn’t quite enough, as she saw a bandit on his back, though Dell tried as he might to buck him off. The man reached up, grabbing a fistful of his long hair and wrenching his head back, before shoving a piece of metal into his mouth. 

Dell shouted, furious, around the bit clenched between his teeth, as the man secured the device at the back of his head. Another man jeered, whipping his rope back around the centaur’s neck and pulling. His head was tugged to the side, and his fighting slowed. 

Lorie felt a boot connect with her back, and she was shoved to the ground. She cried out into her gag as her head hit snow. She struggled onto her back with the help of her tied hands, and looked up to see Wildor watching her. 

“Lorie, this would be much easier if you were still,” he scolded, rolling his eyes as though her battle was a mere inconvenience to him, and not a situation of life or death to her. 

He bent down, this time unaccompanied as his men worked on detaining the worse. His hand went to the top of her head and took hold of her hair, pulling her to sit up. “Come on.” 

She whined as pain shot through her scalp, and because of his close range, she took her chance to kick out. If they were treated like animals, they’d act like it. 

While she didn’t have upper body strength, her goat legs packed quite a punch, and she thrust her cloven hoof into the man’s ribs. She hit something, and triumph sparked for just a second, as Wildor’s breath caught, and he let go of her hair. She tried to writhe away as he inhaled, clutching his middle. It actually seemed for a moment that she might have bested her captor. 

And then he steadied himself, and advanced on her form once again. Her big brown eyes looked up to see him wind up. 

His large fist connected with her face, and she let out a cracked cry as her head was shoved to the side and into the snow. The snow burned her right cheek, and the wound on her left felt raw and hot. Angry tears blurred her vision as she turned to face her attacker again, and she tried to kick once more. 

He caught her ankle easily. With a quick tug to drag her toward him, he prepared his boot, before kicking her stomach with brutal force. She choked, curling in on herself and feeling bile rise in her throat. 

Her chest struggled to rise and fall. She shut her eyes tight, wishing the snow would cover her up. A whine of protest escaped her mouth and got lost in the gag as Wildor wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her to stand. She shook her head, crying, trying to push him away with her bound hands. 

He steadied her on her feet, shushing her quietly, kindly. “I’m sorry, hon,” he brushed her hair back. “I just need you and your friend there to come with me, and you’re not making it easy.” 

She shivered, looking over her shoulder again to Dell. He’d stopped fighting as she did. He was bleeding from several wounds. His wrists, chest, neck, were all tied up, and the bit in his mouth made him unable to speak. He met Lorie’s eyes, breathing heavy. 

“Let’s go,” the bandit captain instructed his men, and suddenly Lorie was scooped up in his arms and over his shoulder. 

She squeaked, and began to kick again as he rested her in the fireman’s carry. She pounded on his back furiously, yelling unintelligibly, but Wildor began walking, unperturbed. 

“Gods, someone knock her out,” he groaned, and one of the bandits jogged over. 

Only his lower half came into view, as she couldn’t see much above that, but she noticed him ready a mace. 

Lorie had to crane her neck to look up, struggling still, and though the man blocked her view, she saw Dell watching her, something behind his cold eyes. Fear, disappointment, defeat. Maybe all three. She was so tired. 

“G’night, ma’am,” the bandit chuckled, and turned his mace around so the hilt was at the ready. 

Lorie tried to protest, to reason with him, but her words were lost. She looked to Dell again, before the man wound up, and cracked the mace into her temple.

Blackness. She went limp. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The first of this series is smut, and the next work of this series will be smut, so naturally I need a little sexy violence to go in the middle!! Thanks for reading mwah


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